(no subject)
"This is the dead guy who lives in my binder. His name is Fred, Fred Doe. Its french, well it is if you say it really quickly anyways." Boredom helps us find many things, like Fred the dead guy who has taken up permanent residence in my binder. He and I have convorsations. Most people don't see Fred the see what they think is an amoeba but no it is him. He just doesn't like them that is. If he wasn't so photo sensitive I would show you his picture. And no this Fred does not have a bald spot, probably becuase that Fred isn't dead. We talk of all sorts of things, the time I waltzed across the broken glass diamonds in the most elegant of evening wear. Or when I followed the silver sun dried snail trails to where the sun comes so close to the ground fire became a sentient being. We talk of sitting on the grass and watching the stars slowly fade out to black just like our favorite Greece songs. And of times where violets, which were our favorite flowers at the time, were thrown off of the bridge and raced to the other side where we decided to grab hands and race off after them. I tell Fred all these memories. Fred is a very close friend you see. He has seen far too many things in his lifetime to share all at once like the time he had taken his fish for a walk in the park. It then started to rain you see so the bowl slipped from his hand and rolled to the nearest drain and george, the fish, slipped in. He latter found george at a sushi place in a large tank where the customers could pick which would be a tastey treat. Imagine the poor chefs surprise when Fred informed him that he did not want the fish prepared in any way what-so-ever. Fred is full of enterataining stories of adventure like that and keeps me on the edge of my seat for hours. See the best part is Fred already knows everything there is to know, so he knew of the fish that chases the violets aswell.